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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204433">(un)planned cuddles and hot chocolate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Wraith/pseuds/Anonymous_Wraith'>Anonymous_Wraith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Alex Rider, Alex Rider Needs a Hug, Alex Rider has PTSD, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin Alex Rider, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Yassen Gregorovich Lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:22:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Wraith/pseuds/Anonymous_Wraith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Rider is head of SCORPIA, and he is working himself to the bone. His found family makes sure that he gets his rest, whether he likes it or not.</p><p>An ‘inspired by’ side-fic based off of pongnosis’ <i>The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Rider &amp; Jack Starbright, Jerry Harris &amp; Alex Rider, Sagitta &amp; Alex Rider, Tom Harris &amp; Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich &amp; Alex Rider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(un)planned cuddles and hot chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pongnosis/gifts">pongnosis</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222295">The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pongnosis/pseuds/pongnosis">pongnosis</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I guess that this fic could be read without reading <i>The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea</i>, but it wouldn’t make much sense and you wouldn’t know half the characters. Really, I encourage you to read it. It is 531,000 words long (which is like, <b>eight full-sized novels</b>, to put it in perspective. Like, who writes <b>eight novels</b> in <i>two years</i>?), and incredibly high-quality all throughout. You’ve got little to no typos, near-perfect grammar, sentence variety-- not to mention that it is highly detailed yet action-packed at the same time. It has the same sort of pacing as the Alex Rider series, and quite similar writing styles. The characters are on-point and super relatable even though most of them are cold-blooded murderers (though that might just be me, honestly~). I am highly, <i>highly</i> impressed with how well done it is, and implore you to read it.</p><p>Enough ranting; onward with the cuddles.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pattern started around June someplace, a year after Alex officially became head of SCORPIA. </p><p>He was on vacation, relaxing in a French suite with Jack and Sagitta for company. Well, as relaxed as he could be with the weight of a terrorist organization on his shoulders. He still had paperwork and organization to do, but at least he was in a comfortable location and with the people he cared about most. </p><p>Jerry, Shale, and Mace lounged on the couches and chairs around him as he hunched over a stack of papers, a pen wielded in his right hand. He’d been at it for hours already, organizing operations and checking reports. Marcus was in the other room doing much the same. It wasn’t much of a vacation, if he was going to be honest. A normal twenty-one year old would’ve been either at a party with their friends or chillaxing in the Hawaiian sun. A normal twenty-one year old wouldn’t be ordering assassinations or sitting so casually next to a bunch of mass murderers. Then again, Alex wasn’t a normal twenty-one year old. He was an assassin, spy, and the leader of an organization that dealt with sabotage and corruption as its main attributes. Not really the run-of-the-mill activities that a young adult would involve themself in. </p><p>His gaze flicked up as Jack entered the room, but he was focussed on the task in front of him. He was half-aware of how she paused, took in the scene around her, then stalked towards him. If he was in the presence of mind to notice such a thing more fully, then he would have been prepared for what happened next. As it was, it took him wholly off guard.</p><p>“Alright. That’s enough of that.” Before he really had a chance to comprehend those words, she had ripped the pen out of his hand and kicked the coffee table out of his reach. He made a half-hearted attempt to push past her, only for her to tackle him and pin him against the couch. “This is your vacation,” she informed him. “That means you are resting and not worrying about work for at least a week. SCORPIA can manage for that long, at least.”</p><p>He struggled and <i>almost</i> escaped her grasp, but then Shale was also there, holding him down. “Mace; grab the blankets.”</p><p>A minute later, Alex was manhandled into a blanket-wrapped sushi roll by four very insistent motherhens. He was bundled up in Jack’s arms despite how much he struggled, and at some point he just gave up. He was an assassin, not an escape artist. </p><p>It ended up being one enormous cuddle pile. He was leaning against Jack-- who was leaning against the couch-- and on one side of them was Mace, while on the other side of them was Jerry, and Shale was lounging in Alex’s lap. Alex was beginning to feel a bit warm, but he was not uncomfortable. He felt safe, secure, and altogether too loved. He was a murderer, yet he still had people (murderer’s like him, though he never thought of them that way) that were forcing him to relax, because they <i>cared</i>. A weakness, most would think, but a welcome one nonetheless.</p><p>He allowed himself to settle into their hold. He felt all the stress of the past year wash away in the face of gentle physical contact. He was surrounded by people who cared about him, and, even though he knew he had much work to do, he thought, <i>Damn it, I need the break. </i></p><p>Shale began running his fingers through Alex’s hair in much the same way that he imagined a brother would do, and he leaned infinitesimally into the touch. Mace’s hair was tickling his nose, Jack’s grip firmly trapped his arms, and Jerry was a heavy weight against his side-- but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. This was the best he’d felt in months. </p><p>Jack was right. </p><p>It was not the first nor the last time that he would admit it.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;</p><p> </p><p>The second time that it happened, he was in the middle of an operation. </p><p>He was stressed, he had already lost several men (none of the Sagitta combat team, thankfully), and he was tired. It wouldn’t be a huge loss (to SCORPIA’s <i>immediate</i> operations, that is) if they backed out of the mission, but it would take a hit on SCORPIA’s reputation, which was almost worse. </p><p>He was almost at the point where it would be worth it. </p><p>The target-- a man going by the alias ‘Bark’-- was a ruthless millionaire (all blood money, of course) with enough influence and blackmail to rival MI6’s. The CIA had been the actual ones to request the ‘disposal,’ but every intelligence agency on the south side of the Arctic wanted Bark dead. SCORPIA had been entrusted with the assassination, but it really fell to Alex to deal with such a large assignment. Bark had enough security that it seemed impossible to touch him. It was possibly the hardest mission Alex had ever been on-- and that was saying something.</p><p>He paced the floor of the hotel room. His mind was whirring like a well-oiled machine, though it was beginning to putter and crash with how hard he was working it. How was he supposed to kill a man that most of the world’s intelligence agencies combined couldn’t dispose of? He was twenty-one, damn it! Sure, he’d been part of SCORPIA for longer than a lot of people had survived in the same type of environment, and he’d been trained by one of the most lethal assassins in the world, but he had half the amount of age and experience than Bark did. </p><p>His security was tight. His schedule was erratic. Alex didn’t know where Bark would be from one moment to the next. At one point he’d be in Miami, another point he’d be at a zoo in California. Too many times he’d slipped from Alex’s grasp, and Alex could do nothing about it. </p><p>Suddenly, he was bodychecked from behind and trapped face-down against the worn hotel carpet. He felt a hit of déjà vu as the person pinning him down spoke. “You need to take a bloody break,” they informed him.</p><p>“Tom?” he said incredulously. “Not you, too!”</p><p>“Sorry, mate.” Tom didn’t even have the decency to sound apologetic. “Jack has corrupted me beyond redemption.”</p><p>Alex groaned. “I have a criminal empire to take down, Tom. I don’t have <i>time</i> for this.”</p><p>“I guess I’m just going to be sitting here for a while, then.”</p><p>“I feel betrayed.”</p><p>Tom lived up to his promise and kept sitting on Alex. </p><p>“Is this a dog pile?” Marcus asked as he entered the room. Alex was beginning to feel wholly humiliated. He was Orion, head of SCORPIA and talented assassin. He should not be able to be pinned by his best friend that has been training for a third of the time and ruthlessness that he had. Then again, he didn’t want to hurt Tom. “Get off him for a second, Harris.”</p><p>The small bit of hope that arose in Alex after that statement was crashed by a blanket and burned by Marcus lifting him up by the scruff of his jacket. Once again, he was entrapped in layers of fabric and arms, and once again, he was snuggled into by ruthless mother hens. </p><p>“The scorpion is in the blanket! I repeat, the scorpion is in the blanket!” cried Tom, draping himself over Alex’s shoulders like a cat. Marcus was standing over them proudly, his eyes promising more blankets if Alex so much as twitched. </p><p>Mace walked into the room, paused, then said. “Ahh, the Alex sushi roll. Classic.”</p><p>Dignity? What’s dignity?</p><p>“You are not getting out of here until tomorrow,” Mace promised. “Doctor’s orders.”</p><p>“You’re not even a doctor,” Alex protests, though he knows that its a useless endeavor. “And I’m not even injured.”</p><p>“Doctors orders,” he repeated as he settled himself next to the pair, draggin Marcus down with him. “Snuggles until dawn. The best way to win a feud against sleep.”</p><p>Alex wondered, briefly, if he should instil more respect into his subordinates, then shook his head. These weren’t subordinates, no matter how much he bossed them around. They were the closest to family that Alex had ever had, and he wasn’t about to change that by expecting them to respond to his every word.</p><p>Even as Adams came into the room with Shale following after him, even as they both joined the pile and made it difficult for Alex to breath, even as Jack leaned against the doorframe and smiled at them all-- Alex relaxed. After all…</p><p>It was the doctor’s orders.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;</p><p> </p><p>The third and most significant time- though by far not the last- was when it was just him, Jack, and Yassen in a comfortable apartment on Vancouver Island. </p><p>Alex was tossing and turning in his sleep, wracked by nightmares and what-could-have-been. He dreamt of Blunt and his dead fish eyes, of the clone Julius and his shark’s teeth, of Dr.Three and his sickly kind smiles. He dreamt of brains blown out and tongues lolling and the coy smell of blood and iron. In that moment, he was not Orion, the great SCORPIA operative that killed without a second thought. In that moment, he was Alex Rider, blackmailed and backed into a corner with nowhere to run and no one to turn to. He’d never wanted to kill. He’d never wanted to hurt. It was what his circumstances forced him to do, and it haunted his every moment. </p><p>He woke to himself being wrapped gently into a blanket and picked up in a bridal-style carry. He felt the prick of cold sweat on his forehead and the hummingbird thumping of his heart in his chest. His breathing was heavy against the soft skin of Jack’s neck, but she didn’t seem to mind.</p><p>Rocking him slowly, she hummed as she carried him into the living room. </p><p>Alex wondered how Jack knew that he’d been having nightmares. As far as he knew, he hadn’t made any noticeable noises as he was sleeping (he’d trained himself out of that), but he didn’t discard the notion that she had just <i>known</i>. She had raised him since he was seven; by this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had some sort of sisterly instinct to that sort of thing. </p><p>He nuzzled his head into her shoulder, focussing on matching his breathing to hers. It didn’t matter how she knew. She was there, she was real, and he appreciated her being there for him. He couldn’t help believing that he didn’t deserve it, that she should shun him for getting her into this kind of life in the first place-- but he knew how she would respond to those kinds of thoughts. Despite everything, she still cared about him. </p><p>She laid him down on the couch. “Hot chocolate?” she asked quietly.</p><p>He grunted in agreement, but his eyes begged her not to leave him alone with his thoughts.</p><p>“I’ll get Yassen,” she promised, and was gone.</p><p>Not even thirty seconds later, Yassen entered the room and sat next to Alex, not saying a word. From Yassen, that was the direct translation of ‘I care about you so maybe just don’t die,’ which was soothing to Alex on an instinctual level. He sank into the couch, letting Yassen’s calming presence wash over him. This was enough. </p><p>Jack reentered the room with three mugs of lightly steaming hot chocolate. She took one look at Yassen a foot away from Alex and just said: “Hell no.” </p><p>She set the mugs on the coffee table in a prompt manner and marched towards the two. “We’re doing a cuddle pile,” she announced no-nonsense-like, grabbing Yassen’s arm in a moment of recklessness and disregard of death. Yassen was surprisingly pliant as she dragged him closer to Alex, wrestling his arm around the young adult’s shoulders and ordering him to stay there. He went along with it in the same way that someone would go along with a five-year-old ordering them to draw stick figures with them. </p><p>She untangled Alex’s arms from the blankets while somehow still managing to cover every inch of him, giving him his mug of hot chocolate. She shoved Yassen’s into his unoccupied hand and took the remaining mug with an air of finality, sitting on the couch on the other side of Alex.</p><p>“We’re binge-watching Netflix originals,” she informed them. “Some of them are actually surprisingly good.”</p><p>The remote was used to turn on the apartment’s television and direct the select box over to Netflix. </p><p>They watched <i>Black Mirror</i> for hours. About half-way through the first episode, Alex fell asleep on Yassen’s chest, who stroked his hair with as much affection as he seemed to be able to express. The hard lines of his face softened as Alex relaxed against the retired assassin, and Jack smiled triumphantly. She would never forgive Yassen for dragging Alex into this world, for forcing him to kill, for forcing him to do the impossible-- but she’d admit that he was what Alex needed. </p><p>She left the two alone as <i>Black Mirror</i> droned in the background. As she walked into her temporary bedroom, she heard Yassen speak something softly to Alex in Russian, and even though she didn’t understand Russian, she knew what he was saying nonetheless.</p><p>
  <i>“You are precious to me, Aleks.”</i>
</p>
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